


Red

by datleggy



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 3x16 spoilers, Apologies, Buck is Drunk, Buck needs a hug, Coda, Gen, M/M, Vomiting, slight physical altercation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datleggy/pseuds/datleggy
Summary: Eddie comes over to find his best friend drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 564





	Red

Maddie has a lunch date with Chim. She invites him to tag along, of course, but Buck doesn’t want to be a third wheel, so he assures her he’s fine, he’s going to the gym after she leaves, he says, “It’ll help me clear my head.” 

So she leaves, albeit hesitantly, and Buck mopes. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from his cupboard and serves himself a hefty amount, and swigs it down in one gulp. _For Red_ , Buck thinks, forlornly. 

He’s several drinks in when his door swings open. Buck doesn’t have to look up to see who it is, he simply moves the bottle over and nods to where he keeps his cups. “Help yourself.” 

Eddie takes the bottle and frowns at it. “Buck, was this a _new_ bottle?” It’s nearly half gone. 

Buck shrugs, staring at the amber gold liquid in the glass he’s got both hands around. 

Eddie sighs, “I heard your friend passed away this morning. I’m sorry, Buck.” 

“He wasn’t my friend.” 

Eddie blinks. “What?” 

Buck shoots back the rest of the whiskey and then pours himself another. “Red was just some poor guy whose life I selfishly inserted myself into because that’s who I am Eddie, I live to make everything about _me_.” 

Eddie moves the bottle so that it’s out of reach and shakes his head. “No it’s not, what are you talking about? Buck, you were there for him when no one else was, you were there for him in the end; he didn’t go alone.” 

“After making his last days on earth hell!” Buck stands up and sways, holding onto the counter for support. He’s definitely drunk. “I was so scared that that was gonna be _my_ end, Eddie, that I was gonna end up some old man without any family or friends, spending my nights at bars all alone. So I latched myself to Red and I tried so hard to make it better, but I fucked it all up, I made it so much worse.” 

“You didn’t, Buck, I know you didn’t. I saw his face when you wheeled him out of that hospital. You did good.” Eddie’s afraid Buck is five minutes from face planting, the way he’s rocking back and forth in the kitchen, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?” It doesn’t make any sense. Buck is a good person. He has to know that. 

Buck huffs out a laugh, “Eddie, you said it yourself, I’m _exhausting_. And you know what, I get it, I do. I _am_ exhausting. I don’t know how any of you even deal with me! _I_ don’t even wanna deal with me!” 

All the air is sucked out of the room in that instance and Eddie can only stare at his best friend in absolute horror. “Fuck, I--” he stutters out, pausing to take a step forward. He wants to reach out and touch Buck but his hands are numb at his sides, useless. “Buck, when I said that I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

Buck takes a clumsy step back, subconsciously. “No, no, Eddie, it’s ok, you don’t hafta explain, you were right. I like to talk big about how much I think I’ve grown, how I’m not that old Buck anymore, but I haven’t changed at all.” 

Eddie takes another step, and another one, trying to close the distance between them. “I was wrong.” he insists, his voice cracking. It’s been months since that day, and he’s stupid for thinking Buck wouldn’t take his words to heart. Buck needed him and all he could think about was himself and how bad he had it. 

He doesn’t know what to say to make this better. 

Buck takes the glass on the table top and goes to drink it, but Eddie intervenes this time, grabbing his wrist. “Stop, please. We need to talk about this.” 

“Let go.” Buck tugs at his hand. 

Eddie tightens his grip. “Buck, seriously.” 

“That hurts.” Buck complains softly, his face blank, but he doesn’t try to pull away again. 

Eddie unhands him immediately, as though the skin around his wrist were on fire. “Buck, sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

He didn’t mean to what? There’s a lot he has to apologize for, and where the hell is he even supposed to begin? 

“It’s fine.” Buck holds Eddie’s gaze as he drinks the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not. You’re lying.” Eddie steps back. “I’m so sorry I said that to you. I was angry when I said it. I was focused on me and my problems. I never stopped to consider your side. _You’re not exhausting_ , Buck, you’re my best friend and you’re always there for me and for Christopher and all you fucking do is give and give and give and the one time you really needed me--” 

“You have Christopher to think about, it’s not your fault.” Buck excuses, resigned, and he turns to look at what’s left in the whiskey bottle, thinks about pouring himself another drink. 

“You think about Christopher _all_ of the time, from the minute you met him you’ve been there for him and you’ve been there for me and the moment you couldn’t be, because _you_ needed _me_ , I lashed out!” Eddie scoffs self deprecatingly. “And then I tricked myself into thinking all the apologies due were supposed to head my way, when it’s me this whole time who’s owed you one.” 

Buck shakes his head, and that’s a bad move, because damn does that make him dizzy as hell. He topples sideways, clumsily, and Eddie barely just catches him from hitting the floor. “Woah.” he blinks slowly, trying to clear his double vision. It’s been a long time since he got this well and truly wasted. Shit. 

“C’mon, I’ve got you.” Eddie takes most of Buck’s weight and helps him stumble over to the couch. He doesn’t think Buck will make it up the stairs in his current state. “Here, lay down.” Eddie lifts Buck’s long legs up off the floor and onto the couch. “Stay right here, ok? I’m gonna get you some water.” 

Buck closes his eyes and that’s a bad idea. Everything is spinning so rapidly and it’s dark and his chest feels tight and he’s all alone and he can’t breathe. He gasps, eyes wide open, and leans over the side of his couch to vomit. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder and another around his front, holding him steady. “Let it out, there you go,” Eddie’s voice is soothing above him. It’s the same gentle tone he uses when he’s reading Christopher a bed time story. 

“Shoulda’ gone with you that night,” Buck coughs, after expelling what he hopes is everything in his stomach. 

Eddie helps him sit up. “What night?” 

“Christopher’s sleepover.” he clarifies, groaning at the severe vertigo he experiences when he’s finally upright again. Buck leans into Eddie’s chest, lets himself be held as he tries to gather his bearings. 

Eddie rubs a hand up and down Buck’s back and smooths the hair out of his face. “Why didn’t you?” Buck is normally so excited to come over and hang out; the decline had been unexpected. 

Buck mutters something, already half asleep in Eddie’s grasp, and Eddie has to strain to hear. “What?” 

“Scared.” Buck repeats, blinking owlishly. 

Eddie’s brows furrow. “Why? What were you afraid of?” 

“You,” he sighs, “Getting tired of me.” 

_You’re exhausting_. 

“I’m trying my best.” Buck mumbles into Eddie’s shirt, eyes drooping shut, and the soft spoken words shatter Eddie’s heart to bits and pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> this episode made me ugly cry


End file.
